My daughter’s cat lies on the gray-painted floor at the top of the stairs, just outside her room, looking in. She’s away with friends in Maine. Over email, her sister and I see pictures of her swimming in a lake and the ocean — all that great blue and green wilderness around her 13-year-old self.
Her cat, of course, knows nothing of this, but simply lies at the threshold to her door, waiting for her return.
This morning, the rain’s returned, a great downpour. In the garden, yesterday, I pulled out handfuls of dead lily leaves, the broken and blackened remainders of lupine stems. Middle of August, and school and soccer start soon. The evenings come earlier, and the Black-eyed Susans burst brightly along the weedy roadsides.
Things do not change; we change.
2 thoughts on “Cat’s Heart”
One of the make things that make me happiest in this life are cats who wait loyally for their little girls. I had one, and my daughter has one. I’m so glad your daughter has one, too!
Cats really are happiness, aren’t they? So true!